I have had downloads of all sorts flood into my consciousness these past few weeks, so this may well be a rambling piece, switching from one train of thought to another. And for me that feels perfect, it reflects how I am feeling and responding to these unknowing times.
I rejoice and ache still from the calling in and the letting go. Finding bliss in the sudden realisations of what my truth is and of how I can dance to my own rhythm, even though I can feel the threads of the old just about hanging on at my edges.
Last week there was a profound moment when after nine years of being consumed by brambles, the large pond by our boggy woodland was revealed as the land around it was cleared. My breath was taken as I saw the beauty of the wildness re-discovered. Together with my son Jake and my husband Rob, we toiled every day, pulling the leaves, weeds and fallen branches out of the clogged, airless water.
Suddenly, the water gurgled and belched as I dragged a huge clump of detritus out. I had uncovered the inlet. Fresh water began to trickle then flow unhindered into the pond. A few hours later, now dredging on the opposite side of the pond I unveiled the outlet, pulling off a metal grid. This time the water surged down and out threw the exit into the stream. I breathed with the pond, feeling the life return.
Life. Time. Time passing. I am sixty on February 14th. I have been thinking, what does that mean? How do I feel about that?
On the one hand, I think, I’ve been here in Wales for nine years and that time has flown by, it feels like a nano second. Meaning? If the next nine, ten years move as fast, I’ll be seventy in what feels like a nano second!
On the other hand, if I live to be ninety, which is an age I aspire to reach, that’s another thirty years, a little less than the age of my eldest child, that feels like a long time.
Within those thoughts I have been reflecting on who I am, what I do.
I tend to have mega downloads as I am relaxing into sleep. I usually set an intention and ask for my spirit guides and power animals to be with me in my dreams. Just as I did so one evening last week, I had a glorious image of myself in a vibrant red cloak and dress, on the land, smiling, and beside me were books I had written. I knew instantly I was being shown both ‘who I am’ and ‘what I do’.
I am Crone, a Wild Wise Woman.
I write, I am an author.
I am deeply connected to the land I live on.
My soul and heart fill with the love of Mother Earth, this love is what I am called to share with other women. To hold space for other women as a Wild Wise Woman, as a woman who comes alive when sharing my words, as a woman whose soul sings from hearing birdsong and sitting by a tree.
Knowing this opened me to knowing myself, as another layer of unbinding beckoned to me to be shed.
I was delighted when I comprehended the unbinding was to be from my birth name.
I have considered changing my name for quite a few years, starting when I became perimenopausal and was shedding all manner of things which no longer served me.
I am grateful to my parents for giving me a beautiful name. They chose Angela, meaning Angel. But no one ever called me Angela, unless I was being told off. I have always been known as Angie. But this feels now to be girlish, it doesn’t resonate with me. It simply does not feel like who I have become.
I knew I wanted to choose a name that reflects my love of Mother Earth. Brier (meaning Earth). Yes. I spoke it out loud to myself ‘Brier’. I whispered it to myself as I fell asleep ‘Brier’. I signed my name Brier after completing a poem. Brier.
And then there’s my surname. Northwood, not my name, I chose to take my husband’s sir-name when we married, more as a statement to let go of my maiden name, Pullon.
But I’m not a Northwood. I’m not a Pullon. My mother’s maiden name was Smith. We each of us are handed down names, tying us to our parents, grandparents and so on. And if that feels good, and okay and resonates, then fine. It doesn’t with me.
I was happy to be Angie Northwood. It served me well through my Mother phase of life. It does not serve me now.
So, Angela, Angie, Northwood has gone.
I have chosen Heart as my new sir-name, because together with Brier, it speaks of my love for Earth. Brier Heart. Earth Heart.
The numerology for my new name was important too. When I looked it up, it was perfect.
It came as no surprise to me when I looked at the numerology of my maiden name Pullon, that it is not at all how I currently resonate in the world but did reflect how I was in my Maiden phase of life.
Similarly, Northwood was spot on with who I was during my Mother phase of life.
And now, Brier Heart is a fit for the Crone phase of my life cycle.
I will love you and leave you for now with a poem I wrote just after choosing my new name.
Re-Wilding with Brier
‘The land, the land’
Willows whispered to me.
The roots of my soul found the earth
My heart found the air.
Time was still
I was ageless.
‘Yes, of course’ I smiled
And hugged the moment, held the bliss
Always and forever
Beyond my physical body.
From the darkness of my mother’s womb
Lifting the veil
Returning to the darkness of the Great Mother.
Why would the birds not sing of her magnificence?
By Brier Heart February 2021